Troubling Thoughts
by Working-On-Sanity
Summary: Perry thought the nature of his relationship with Doofenshmirtz was a secret. But the Agency knew. All Perry wanted was to know who hated him enough to tattle. Implied Perryshmirtz.


**Note: **The prompt was "troubling thoughts." The more I got into it, the more I realized that this could be expanded into a deeper story. For now, it will suffice as a mere prompt result.

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A chill gripped the circular room, leaving it much too cold for comfort. Even the shafts of sunlight peeking through the glass dome ceiling could not thaw the icy atmosphere.

Perry shifted on the small metal chair, his tail bending against the back of the seat painfully. He bravely withstood the unpleasant sensation, gazing ahead at the front of the room. He clenched his paws into fists, and his slim webbed fingers curled until they shook.

Near the end of the long table stood Major Monogram. He had always seemed stern, even to Perry, but today, he seemed much more so. While waiting for his assembly of agents to settle themselves, the major paced up and down along the length of the table, his hands clasped behind his back. His olive suit scarcely rustled as he passed by Perry, but Perry immediately sat upright, staring ahead rigidly. Not so much as a whisker twitched until Major Monogram moved to the next corner of the table.

Perry released the breath he had been holding, relaxing somewhat. He glanced across the table, wondering if everyone else felt as strangely nervous as he. Agent D's ears were pinned against the top of his head, and his tongue remained in his mouth instead of lolling cheerfully. And even though Agent C, the cat, sat beside the dog, his coat stayed smooth and his tail curled around the leg of the chair instead of fuzzing like a bottle-brush.

The air of unease was strong, but the only one unaffected by the tension was Peter. The panda looked almost smug as he leaned back in his seat, his posture loose. The patches of black around his beady eyes made him look tired, but all other characteristics suggested alertness.

"We called you all here..." Major Monogram's somber voice trailed off, and he coughed tactfully into his fist. Clearing his throat apologetically, he continued: "We called all of our agents in from work today for this short-notice meeting because what needs to be discussed is crucial."

At this announcement, the room fell still and silent as death.

"It has been called to our attention," Major Monogram said grimly, "that some of our agents have been associating much, much too closely with their targets."

Perry's paw involuntarily shot up to press against his chest. Then, realizing several of his coworkers turned to look at him, he nonchalantly smoothed his palm down his stomach, ruffling his fur calmly. Inside, his heart pounded, making Perry breathe shallowly. Icy sweat burned his paw pads. Discreetly, he slipped his paws beneath his haunches to hide how his fingers trembled.

"As far as the O.W.C.A is concerned," Major Monogram said, "what goes on in the personal lives of our agents is really none of our business. But what goes on in their working lives is _all _our business. It is our obligation to ensure everyone's cover is kept. Visiting every day to break some schemes is your job. Visiting every day for leisure or, uh, _fun_––that's where we as professionals have to draw the line."

Everyone in the room could his heart rattling. Perry was certain of it. He sucked in a deep breath with all the ginger caution one would exert when sipping boiling coffee. The frigid air made his throat ache and his stomach cramp, and he helplessly squeezed his eyes shut, adjusting his posture to avoid shuddering.

"Any agent"––at this point that Major Monogram stared deeply at each and every animal, so searchingly and authoritatively that they felt their very souls were exposed to him––"any agent caught associating with his target out of choice will be let go immediately. Your safety is at risk, and our liability insurance can't cover everything."

He paused to let his warning sink in. Most of the agents appeared confused or mildly offended, as if they felt hurt they were not trusted. A few more seemed bored, wondering what poor wretch had been caught. One seemed self-satisfied, content with the major's threat. And yet one more looked as though his entire control over himself had crumbled.

Winded by Major Monogram's speech, Perry sank back against the chair cushion. His mind swam in a murky cloud of disbelief and shock. He felt numb; even his bent tail no longer vexed him. When he furled his fingers, his small claws digging into his palm, only tiny sparks of pain crackled through his nerves.

Dismissed by Major Monogram, the rest of the agents clambered from their chairs, clamoring quietly amongst one another. The room vibrated with meows and yaps and whistles and chirps and purrs, but Perry could not concentrate on attempting to translate the cacophony.

Major Monogram knew. He had found out. _Someone _knew.

Perry weakly climbed from his chair, hoping his knees would not buckle beneath him. The brim of his fedora slipped sideways, hiding one of his eyes, but Perry could not make himself reach up to straighten it. Dazed, he trailed behind the crowd of animals, his tail dragging behind him.

They _knew_.

Perry tried to gather his thoughts, but all he heard was Major Monogram's rough, sad voice, disappointed that he had to make such an announcement. Perhaps the major felt betrayed that one of his workers could possibly become a double agent. But why had he chosen to publicly call the issue to attention? If he knew, why had he not privately spoken with only Perry?

No, Perry thought, fighting to convince himself otherwise. That couldn't have been it. Major Monogram couldn't know. It was probably O.W.C.A. code to periodically remind his agents of the dangers of close target contact. There was simply no possible way in which he could have discovered that Perry's enemy was his best friend.

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**Note: **I possibly will continue this, but I'm not sure. Also, on a different note: prompts! If anyone has a prompt idea, feel free to send it my way. I certainly can't guarantee I'll use it, but it may spark a new idea.


End file.
